Torn
by Sarahrose660
Summary: Falling in love sucks. Falling in love with the straight best friend you've known all your life? That sucks even more. One sided Merlin/Arthur, Arthur/Gwen.


Torn

Leaves crunch underfoot as they run, trees and bushes passing in a blur around them. The air is crisp and cold, the colours of summer fading into the rich golds and reds of autumn. Arthur can feel his new boots chaffing slightly against his feet, rubbing up against thick socks and jeans. His breath comes in harsh pants, misting before his eyes as he strains his legs to go faster, to push harder. Behind him, he can hear the calls of his nurse, knows it is time to go home, but not yet. Not until he has caught his prey. The trees in front of him thin, open up and widen until he is standing in a clearing. Sunlight streams in from a gap in the trees, he can see dust swirling in the air and there is no one to be seen. And yet he knows, he knows with a certainty that is intoxicating. His prey is here, hiding amongst the fallen branches, barely daring to breathe. He turns, first one way and then the other, body convulsing as he tries desperately to see, to catch, to claim.

And then, a small, dark shape charges from a bush to his left, hitting him hard in the side and causing him to fall awkwardly onto the ground. His prey is on top of him, fingers tickling at his sides, hands scrabbling for purchase as Arthur tries to twist away. Arthur is stronger, faster and soon, he has his prey flipped over, eyes bright, hands pinned. The boy below him grins, unafraid and exhilarated at being caught.

"I got you," Merlin cries, blue eyes sparkling as he grins at the boy above him. And Arthur, all Arthur can do is grin back with all the arrogant confidence of a nine year old.

"You've always got me," he replies, brushing himself off as he stands and offering a hand to help Merlin up. Their hands meet just as his nurse enters the clearing, out of breath and swearing so low that she hopes the children can't hear. Merlin flashes Arthur one more smile, right before the lecture begins.

oOoOo

They argue more as they get older. Insults fly more freely, disagreements start for no reason and Merlin has lost count of the number of times he has called Arthur a prat in the last week alone. His best friend is also his worst enemy; an infuriating, irritating presence that Merlin can't quite live without. They're different now, the years separating them and bringing them closer in equal measure. They still have the same easy grace they enjoyed as children, they still laugh, they still spend far too much time in each other's company. But there is something missing there, something broken and quiet. Merlin doesn't know what it is, this awkwardness hanging between them, the way every time Arthurs calls him an idiot, he dies a little more inside.

He understands, one quiet December morning, sitting in the common room of the Sixth Form college they both attend. Arthur sits on the uncomfortable bench opposite him, hands splayed open, eyes alight as he explains some concept he had learned in physics that morning. Merlin tuned out minutes ago, concentrating on the twisting of Arthur's hands, the steady thrum of his pulse where it visibly beats in his throat, his blue eyes, the way the sunlight catches him, just a certain way… and suddenly, he is not seeing his best friend. He is seeing strength, and intelligence, and beauty. Merlin has never been one to believe in love at first sight, or love at all, really. But then, this isn't love at first sight. This is his best friend, the boy he's known half his life, just different. Merlin can feel his heart grow slightly, clench when Arthur finally pauses.

"Merlin, you idiot! Were you even listening to me?" Arthur asks, clearly irritated. Merlin shakes himself, pushes his feelings down and tries for a contrite smile.

"Something about batteries?" he tries, and is rewarded by Arthur throwing a nearby cushion at his head. If he feels a warm glow at the smile Arthur directs at him, he ignores it.

oOoOo

Merlin watches him, after that. He memorises the shape of his face, the quirk of his lips, the way his eyes sparkle when he laughs. He learns the sound of his laugh, his sense of humour – always so sarcastic, so cutting, and if Merlin if often the only one laughing, who cares? – learns to light up when Arthur walks into the room. And he does light up. The days when Arthur doesn't come into college are a torment, the time they spend together a joy. Merlin wants to pull back, wants to stop himself, because this isn't right, this can't be. Arthur isn't even remotely interested in guys, and even if he was, Merlin is sure he would be Arthur's last choice. So he hugs his feeling to his chest and allows them to warm him as he lies alone at night.

oOoOo

It's summer when his heart is broken for the first time. It's the last day of school, and half the Sixth Form are at Sophia's house for a party to celebrate. Merlin has never really liked Sophia, disliking her superior attitude and the way she's cruel to anyone she thinks is below her. He also knows that the only reason he's been invited tonight is because of his friendship with Arthur. When he arrives at the house, the party is in full swing, people pushing and crowding. There is a large group of people dancing, girls swaying seductively in time to the music while the boys around them watch on in appreciation. Merlin ignores them, weaving through the party. He ignores the smokers, those who are taking drugs, those already deep in their cups and lamenting their sorrows.

Instead, he searches for Arthur, not stopping until a guy on Arthur's rugby team at school, Percy, stops him and jerks his head up the stairs. With a quick word of thanks, Merlin is off, climbing the stairs two at a time. Arthur has a bad habit of drinking too much and then throwing up at parties, and he usually likes Merlin there to stroke his back while he retches. Merlin opens the first door he can find, flicking on the light before he can think and then flinching at the sight in front of him. Arthur is on the bed, shirt rucked up, hand tucked into the waistband of a girl's skirt. A girl that Merlin recognises. Gwen, the girl he sits next to in Biology and who has become quite a close friend in recent months, smiles awkwardly at him.

He can feel the silence stretch for a moment too long, Gwen's smile looking strained. Just before he shuts off the light, he sees a small mark on Arthur's neck and feels the bottom fall out of his world. Door shut behind him, he stumbles down the stairs, throwing a quick goodbye to Percy before he reaches his car and drives home. His tears hold only until his ignition is turned off.

oOoOo

Gwen corners him the day after, as they settle down into their shared Biology bench. It's that lax moment at the beginning of the lesson as students unpack their bags and the teacher writes up the day's work on the white board. It lasts only for a few minutes, but it is enough time for Gwen to turn to him, concern alight in her soft brown eyes.

"Merlin, are we ok?" Gwen asks, her voice hesitant and shy, eyes pleading and at once, Merlin feels his heart soften. This isn't her fault, nor is it Arthur's; it is all his. A quick smile and shoulder bump are meant to reassure her, but they only make her furrow her brow even further. At Merlin's questioning look, she continues, voice even lower than before, so that Merlin has to lean in to hear her.

"Only, I kind of thought you had a crush on Arthur, and if this is awkward at all…" Merlin feels a small burst of fear, suppressed quickly as he forces himself to laugh off the question. Gwen looks relieved, naïvely willing to believe Merlin, as she launches into gushing about how amazing Arthur is. Merlin is ridiculously grateful when their biology teacher interrupts them a few moments later.

oOoOo

The thing is, it should have stopped hurting now. It's been five months, five months of obstinate flirting, giggles and rumours. Five months of Gwen confiding just how much she likes Arthur, of Arthur confiding just how he feels about Gwen. Of telling them both to stop being idiots, to just get together. Yelling at Arthur every time he fails to ask her out, comforting Gwen when it fails to happens. He feels like a liar, like a fraud. And every time he sees them together, it feels like something is punching him in the chest, hard.

oOoOo

"You love him, don't you?" Morgana asks one day, as Merlin's eyes stray again to where Arthur tucks a stray lock of hair behind Gwen's ear, smiling broadly as she blushes. He looks at the girl, unable to hide what is shining clearly in his eyes.

"Don't worry, I won't tell Arthur," she promises, hand on his arm.

oOoOo

The day Arthur drops by his house, beaming, to let him know that Gwen is officially his girlfriend is one of the best and worst of his life. Because the thing is, he is genuinely happy for Arthur. He's seen him hurt too many times, seen the likes of Vivian and Sophia play him once too often. He knows what this means, knows with certainty the happiness that is coursing through Arthur is everything he's ever wanted. Arthur is his best friend, the person who means the most in the world to him, after Hunith. Anything that makes Arthur happy makes Merlin happy, and his grin as Arthur describes how he asked out Gwen is real.

Later though, when he's curled up in his bed, soft and small and hugging his old teddy bear for comfort, Merlin will let himself cry. He'll let himself open up and he'll extinguish, perhaps forever, the small part of him that still cried _maybe_. That night, at around midnight, his phone buzzes only once. It's a text from Morgana, a single consolatory heart. That, more than anything, breaks Merlin.

oOoOo

He doesn't really get it until a few months later. They're at another party, thrown by Leon this time. It's a small gathering, only really the Knights – as the school rugby team is known – and a few close friends. Merlin sits on the sofa between Morgana and Mordred, trying to ignore the way Arthur and Gwen dance together, the way he mouths romantic lyrics at her while she laughs, head thrown back, luminescent in the dull light. When Arthur darts in to kiss her smiling lips, Merlin stands abruptly, all but running into the kitchen and downing the first drink he comes across. It's vodka, and the burn as it goes down is comforting, heating his body from the inside out. He almost doesn't notice Morgana, until her hand is on his arm, her eyes wide with sympathy and Merlin knows he can't deal with this.

"Don't, Morgana. Just don't," he murmurs, gently shrugging her off as he heads to the front door. It occurs to him, as he sits on the pavement outside Leon's house and the neighbours unpacking their car stare at him strangely, that he should have brought a coat. It doesn't matter, he decides, shivering in the night chill. He tilts his head back, looks at the stars, looks at how bright they shine. They are beautiful. How long he sits there, he can't be sure. At some point, Morgana comes and sits next to him, saying nothing, just sharing body heat. When he finally stands, legs cramping uncomfortably from the cold, Merlin feels calmer.

When he walks back into the party and sees Arthur sweep Gwen into his arms, it hurts. When they disappear upstairs for a good two hours, it hurts. When Arthur drunkenly confesses to him later, arm around his neck and breath too hot against his cheek that he thinks he might be falling in love, it burns. But Merlin knows now. He knows that this isn't a fucking fairy tale, that dreams don't come true and that sometimes, being the small, pale boy with the blue eyes just isn't good enough.


End file.
